{Skills Acquired So Far.}
{Demon Grip - [MAX]. Blood Rain - [MAX]. Demon Eyes - [MAX]. Death Shield - [MAX]. Torment Prison - [MAX]. Venom Phantom Strike - [MAX]. Flames of Death - [MAX]. Telepathic - [MAX]. ETC...}
A young man, his crimson-streaked black hair, which was a stark contrast to the deep red of his eyes, lay sprawled naked upon the silken sheets of his bed. His gaze, sharp and assessing, scanned the ethereal list of skills floating before his inner eye.
'Still no progress...' A sigh, laced with a profound and almost comical frustration, escaped his lips. 'With this many skills already maxed out, when in the abyss will I acquire anything new?'
Thought Draven Valthor, the last living incubus in the entirety of the underworld, and arguably the second most powerful being to currently draw breath in the demon realm. His unique existence had led him down a path of… intimate familiarity with a staggering portion of the female population.
An almost unbelievable statistic.
Whispers circulated, tales both salacious and awestruck, of men willingly presenting their wives, sisters, mothers, and even aunts to him, all for the singular honor of being touched by his demonic grace.
For Draven was no mere seducer. As an incubus, each instance of his carnal union, each shared climax, bestowed upon his partner a tangible increase in their inherent strength. And for Draven himself, the rewards were even greater. He didn't steal their abilities; instead, he flawlessly copied them, adding to his already formidable repertoire. The women, lost in the throes of otherworldly pleasure, felt no loss, only an inexplicable surge of vitality after their encounter.
The consequence of Draven's prodigious… activities had subtly reshaped the power dynamics of the demon realm. Women, empowered by his touch, were increasingly rivaling, and in some cases surpassing, the strength of their male counterparts.
A delicate, smooth hand drifted across the bed, caressing the sculpted planes of his chest.
"You are awake, Lord Draven." A voice, as sweet and intoxicating as aged nectar, filled the room.
Draven turned his head, his red eyes meeting the equally scarlet gaze of the demoness beside him. Princess Sofia. Her long, flowing blonde hair cascaded over the pillows, framing a face of breathtaking beauty, accentuated by the two elegant red horns that curved from her temples and the sinuous flick of her tail.
"Princess Sofia," he murmured, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, revealing the sharp edges of his teeth. "Won't your esteemed father be… displeased with your daily visits to my chambers?" A suggestive glint danced in his eyes.
'I will just use your body to grow stronger.' He mused internally.
Sofia's crimson nail traced a delicate line across his pectoral muscle. Her smile widened, a flash of pure, unadulterated allure.
"Angry?" she echoed, her voice a silken purr. "My father might be… opinionated, but even he understands that incurring the displeasure of the number one commander of the demon legions would be… unwise for the entire demon clan. Besides," she added, her gaze locking with his, "he isn't exactly upset about my… association with you."
Draven's smirk broadened into a full-fledged grin. "Really now?"
"Indeed." Sofia leaned closer, her breath warm against his neck. "Come now, let's not waste any more time."
Just as her lips were about to meet his, a voice, booming and imperious, echoed within Draven's mind.
'[Lord Draven! Where in the nine circles are you?! Do you have any concept of the significance of this event?!]'
Draven winced, the Demon King's mental bellow jarring him.
'[Old geezer! Stop your infernal yelling, my eardrums are perfectly functional, thank you very much!]' he retorted telepathically, the casual disrespect a testament to his unique standing within the demon hierarchy. Even Sofia wouldn't dare address her father in such a manner.
'[You?! I sincerely hope you aren't… engaging in any untoward activities with my daughter!]' The Demon King's mental voice crackled with suspicion.
'[And why ever would I be doing that?]'
Draven countered smoothly, his gaze dropping to Sofia's expectant lips. He reached out, his lips gently closing over hers. Simultaneously, his other hand drifted lower, tracing the curve of her hip.
"Hmmm"
Sofia moaned as his finger slipped between her thighs. Every touch from the incubus seemed to ignite a fire within her, a primal yearning that transcended mere lust.
'[Because she isn't here! You insolent whelp! Just get your backside over here, immediately!]' The Demon King's mental resistance finally crumbled into exasperation.
'[Fine, fine… I'll be there shortly.]'
Draven severed the telepathic link, withdrawing his hand from Sofia and rolling onto his side, away from her.
"What are you doing?" Sofia asked, her voice thick with frustrated desire. She had been on the precipice, the tantalizing edge of release.
Why had he stopped?
"Your father is summoning you. Did you happen to forget about the grand… gathering?" he asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, his lithe, powerful form now in full view, and strode towards the massive, ornate wardrobe that dominated one wall of the luxurious bedroom.
"Well… no, I didn't precisely forget," Sofia replied, her gaze following his every move. "It's just that… you are considerably more engaging than a room full of dusty old demon lords. Besides, I have a suspicion my father is hosting this entire spectacle in your honor. Though why, I couldn't possibly fathom." She watched as Draven retrieved a simple black shirt and pulled it over his broad shoulders, obscuring the sculpted lines of his abdomen.
"For me? Well, that certainly piques my interest. Get dressed, Princess. Meet me there." He donned a pair of dark trousers.
"What about the Krakens?" Sofia inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"Those pathetic, cowards?" Draven scoffed, shrugging into a magnificent coat of deep red fur. "They are the epitome of cowardice. I barely exerted myself, and they scattered like frightened vermin. They haven't even shown their slimy faces in this territory for over a year now."
Sofia rose from the bed, completely naked, and approached him, stopping just inches away, and delicately straightened the collar of his coat.
"Perhaps that has something to do with you single-handedly annihilating half their wretched kingdom with a single attack," she said, a playful smile gracing her lips.
"That particular engagement was rather… boring, if I recall correctly," Draven replied, his hand cupping her jaw. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "Now, get ready."
With that, he dissolved into a swirling vortex of black smoke, which vanished an instant later, leaving Sofia alone in the opulent chamber.
"Fufufufu…" Sofia chuckled softly, a hint of mischievous anticipation in her eyes. "Lord Draven has absolutely no idea what delightful surprises await him."
___
WHOOSH!
Draven materialized in a swirl of black mist before the towering gates of the royal palace. His red eyes, sharp and observant, scanned the imposing structure before him. Without a word, as if anticipating his arrival, the massive gates swung inward.
Every head within the sprawling palace grounds turned towards him.
"WOW!! It's Lord Draven!!!"
"We adore you, Lord Draven!!"
"Lord Draven!! May I have the honor accompanying you tonight?!"
"Lord Draven!! I find myself in dire need of your… immediate attention!!!"
A palpable wave of excitement rippled through the assembled crowd, a cacophony of cheers, adoring cries, and blatant propositions emanating from both male and female demons alike.
Lord Draven Valthor was a figure of immense adoration within the demon clan. From the smallest imp to the most ancient lord, he was cherished. In a mere year, he had been instrumental in transforming their fragmented territories into a burgeoning empire. To many, he seemed an unstoppable force, perhaps even immortal. And perhaps, they weren't entirely wrong.
Draven simply offered them a charismatic smile, a gesture that sent several demonesses swooning into the arms of their companions. His sheer presence, coupled with his inherent incubus allure, made him an object of intense fascination and desire.
'I was once human,' Draven mused, his thoughts a fleeting whisper amidst the adulation. 'I died trying to be a hero, a foolish endeavor in retrospect. Perhaps… just perhaps, that sliver of altruism caught the attention of some cosmic entity, some powerful force… which then granted me a second chance, with a system, transforming me into this… demon. This incubus. And then… I was simply deposited into this chaotic world.'
He ascended the grand staircase leading to the palace entrance, his mind still wrestling with the strangeness of his existence.
'In a single year, I've risen to become the most powerful demon alive, even the old King recognizes it… though he prefers to maintain the illusion that I am second. Well… there's no harm in letting the old codger have his little games.'
He pushed open the massive double doors and stepped into the grand hall.
"Huh?"
Draven blinked, a rare expression of genuine confusion washing over his features. The vast hall was filled with countless demons, a veritable who's of the demon nobility, all their gazes were now fixed upon him. Their eyes shone with a mixture of profound admiration, awe, and an undeniable undercurrent of lust.
'Alright, old geezer,' Draven thought, a familiar smirk returning to his lips.
'Let's see what elaborate scheme you've concocted this time. You wouldn't gather this entire menagerie for a simple social call.'